


Not Made of Glass

by LoverofAllThingsExplicit



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Caring Thranduil, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Play, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Light Spanking, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Thranduil Loves You, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole, Thranduil is a Worrywart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoverofAllThingsExplicit/pseuds/LoverofAllThingsExplicit
Summary: Your relationship with the King of Mirkwood has been nothing short of wonderful . . . now, if only you could convince him that you're not going to break like a wilting flower. What better way to prove it than to show him when he returns to your chambers one night?





	Not Made of Glass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeputyMom62](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeputyMom62/gifts).



> Here you go, DeputyMom62! I'm sorry it took so long to get to you, I hope this is worth the wait~

“(Y/N), what are you doing?!” Thranduil demanded harshly. You jumped, giving a shriek of surprise before you clung to the ladder as it wobbled precariously. Thranduil rushed over and steadied it before extending his hand to you, indicating for you to return to the ground.

You huffed and rolled your eyes before you climbed back down, brushing your messy hair out of your face once you stood before the king.

Thranduil cocked a brow, crossing his arms. “What were you thinking?” he asked in a haughty tone. You shrugged, lifting one shoulder in indifference. “That the flower garland needed to be strung up?” you replied, smiling at him.

Thranduil felt his heart soften as your eyes crinkled with amusement, but he tamped it down. “And if you had fallen?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes. “You could have been hurt. Besides, there are servants to ensure that the flowers will be up in time for the Spring Equinox.”

“And what does it matter who hangs the garlands, my king?” you replied, throwing your hands up. “I’m not going to break! You can’t treat me as if I’m made of glass.” Thranduil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if something were to befall you,” he murmured softly, drawing you into his arms.

You immediately wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you rested your head on his shoulder. “Thranduil, my love,” you whispered. “You can’t try to keep me under constant lock and key. Trust me, a little pain won’t break me.” You stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss across his lips before you wiggled out of his arms.

With one last smile, you were on your way out of the room, humming softly to yourself. Things had been so wonderful for you and Thranduil since that night you started Valentine’s Day, and as much as you loved your king, it was a bit unnerving to have him constantly hovering as if afraid the slightest breeze would blow you away. True, Mirkwood was a dangerous place at the best of times, but you were careful whenever you managed to sneak out with Legolas. And while the sex was phenomenal, it was rather gentle for the most part. Honestly, you wouldn’t mind if you were handled roughly.

You stopped suddenly, a devious smile on your face before you scurried off towards your new destination.

                                                                                                                                       ***

Thranduil sighed as he entered his chambers, closing and locking the door before he turned to face his bedroom. He frowned at the lack of sound and started towards the bedroom door. “(Y/N)? Are you here?” he called. He hadn’t seen you at dinner, and when he inquired after you, the maid informed him that you were in your shared chambers, not feeling up to eating.

He entered his chambers and froze at what he saw. You were kneeling on the bed demurely, eyes cast downward. The see-through fabrics of your nightwear (if you could call the confection that) were doing absolutely nothing to hide your form from him. “I’ve been waiting for you, my King,” you purred. You glanced up and bit the inside of your lip to keep from smirking as you watched his gaze trace your form hungrily, eyes blown wide and pupils dilated.

“What—” Thranduil cleared his throat, his words sounding strangled. “What is this?” he tried again. You smiled at him, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I want to prove to you that I won’t break . . . my king,” you purred, voice low and seductive. “I know you think me easily breakable, and that you hold back when we make love.” You swallowed, feeling lust spike through you as you glanced at the prominent bulge in his breeks. “I want you to be rough with me . . . to use me, to command me . . . and to fuck me,” you breathed the last part, cheeks pink at your own brazen words.

Thranduil inhaled sharply, and his eyes narrowed at you. For a long moment, he said nothing, standing there as he watched you, and you began to feel as if perhaps you pushed him too much. You opened your mouth to speak, but he raised a hand sharply, and cut off your words before they could make it past your throat.

“Did I give you permission to speak, pet?” he demanded. You shook your head quickly, feeling a thrill snake through your spine to your core. His voice was low, like liquid fire, and you suppressed a moan. Thranduil smirked, knowing how much you loved just listening to him speak.

He motioned with his fingers for you to kneel before him, and you made to rise from the bed. “Ah, ah,” he purred. “Crawl to me.” You shivered, desire curling low in your belly before you nodded your head. Slowly, you inched your way off the bed and crawled your way to him as seductively as possible. When you reached your lover, he lowered a hand and stroked your hair gently. “Good girl,” he murmured. You shivered with delight. “Now, I want you to remove my cock from my breeks and show me how much you enjoy feeling its weight on your tongue.”

You nodded your head eagerly and gave a slight gasp of arousal when he fisted your hair. Not too tightly, but enough to let you know that he was in control. “What was that?” he demanded, cocking a brow. “Ye-Yes my king,” you panted, and he released your hair, petting gently. Slowly, you raised up to your knees, and began to untie the front of his breeks, feeling his cock pulse beneath your hand as you brushed against it.

When it was finally free, it sprang up and lightly slapped his abdomen, a trickle of precum already present at the crown. Slowly, eyes focused on your lover’s, you ran your tongue up the underside, tracing the vein up to the tip before sucking gently. Using one hand around the base, you licked and sucked at the crown, enjoying the sharp intake of Thranduil’s breath before he gently placed a hand on the back of your head, encouraging you to take more.

With a slight smirk, you began to suck him into the warmth of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks until you reached your fist, giving a slight twist when your lips connected with it. Thranduil groaned, panting out praises as you bobbed your head, alternating between sucking and stroking. Your free hand came up to softly massage his sack, and he shuddered, thrusting his hips lightly.

You pulled back slightly, his cock falling free of your mouth with a lewd pop. “Does this please you, my king?” you asked sweetly, pumping and twisting your hand along his length. “Eru, yes,” he gasped. You gave a slight giggle, and sucked on the tip once more, swirling your tongue before you took a breath and began to swallow him down.

Thranduil let out a shout as he brushed the back of your throat and you swallowed him further, past your gag reflex. Unable to control himself, he began to thrust gently, holding your head carefully, panting. “So good,” he moaned. “Such a good girl.” You moaned around him, feeling slick running down your thighs. Your jaw ached with the stretch of such a large cock in your mouth, but it made you all the more wanton, sucking and hollowing your cheeks as much as you could. You raked your hands gently up his thighs to his hips, and you could feel your elf lover shudder in pleasure.

With a groan, he pulled himself free of your mouth, and you gasped in a breath of air, gazing up at him with love and lust. “If you continue in such a manner, this will be over far too quickly,” he told you, panting for breath. You smiled at him, gently wiping your mouth and lapping up the spittle and precum that covered your lips. Your king clenched his jaw at the sight, stroking a hand over your cheek.

“Good girl,” Thranduil purred, pulling you up by your arms and pressing you tight against his chest. His mouth claimed yours in a passionate kiss, tongue thrusting into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, clenching the fabric of his tunic tightly in your fists as your head spun with desire. Suddenly the world spun, and you gasped as you felt yourself bent over the edge of the bed. You hadn’t even realized that your king had backed you up until it was too late.

“I think I should return the favor, don’t you?” Thranduil purred, bunching the skirt of your dress over your hips. “You are not allowed to cum until I say you can, do you understand me, pet?” he purred in your ear, trailing kisses up the side of your throat. You moaned, eyes closed, and nodded your head. “Yes, yes my king,” you answered, shivering when you felt his hands slide down to your breasts and cup them, squeezing and pinching the buds. The sharp thrill of pain went straight to your core, and you whimpered. You heard Thranduil chuckle in your ear before he trailed kisses down your spine, licking and biting gently through the material.

You gasped when his hands released your breasts and went lower, one hand gripping your hip to hold you steady as the other trailed lightly down to your clit, stroking lightly. You bit your lip, groaning as pleasure shot fire through your veins. Suddenly, Thranduil’s breath hovered over your mound, and he leaned forward and licked a strip up to your clit, his hand coming down to plunge two fingers into your core without warning.

You yelped in pleasure, your thighs spasming as you tried to hold back your release, biting your lip. His fingers crooked, searching for that spongey wall that held that overwhelming spot of pleasure for you, and you jerked as you felt the beginnings of your release flow through you. “Please, my king,” you panted, limbs shaking. “Please, may I cum?” Thranduil chuckled, and the vibrations caused you to groan. “Not yet, my pet,” he whispered, sucking on your clit.

You whimpered, fisting the bedsheets tightly, trying not to disobey your king. You hovered around the precipice, teeth embedded deeply into your lip. Just as you were about to warn him of your impending release, he let go of your clit and stilled his fingers. You wailed in frustration, then jumped when he slapped your bottom, before he nipped the reddening cheek playfully. “Not until I say you can,” he whispered against your skin, and you let out a heavenly sigh as his mouth returned to you. Every time you hovered close to your release, he would back off, and chuckle as you groaned in frustration. On and on this little game continued, your toes curling and back arching in sweet torture.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he released you from his torturous mouth, and you gasped, panting. “Onto the bed,” he growled, standing up behind you. You nodded your head. “Yes, my king,” you whispered, crawling up on your hands and knees.

When you made to turn over, he smacked a hand across your rear. You gasped at the sharp pain and moaned as heat flooded through you once more. “Stay in this position,” he commanded. He fisted your gown, and ripped it in two, causing you to inhale sharply. You turned your head to look at him and bit your lip at the sight of him. He’d removed the rest of his garments, panting as he traced your form with his eyes, the evidence of your arousal glistening on his chin. His blue eyes glittered as they met your own (E/C) orbs. He grabbed his cock, and as you watched, eyes half-mast with lust, he stroked himself, groaning in pleasure.

“Please my King,” you begged. “Please will you take me?” he growled at your words, and grabbed your hips, positioning himself behind you. “Do not cum yet,” he warned, before he slowly inched his way inside your channel. You couldn’t hold back the cry of pleasure at finally, _finally_ , being filled by your lover. Your channel fluttered around his cock as he stroked his way in, until his hips rested against your rear. You both panted for air, trying to keep from coming too quickly. Suddenly, Thranduil pulled his hips back and slammed back in, causing you to rock forward with a sharp wail of pleasure.

Thranduil kept a quick and harsh pace, grunting in pleasure as you slid up the bed. You reached a hand to steady yourself against the headboard, trying to keep pace with your lover as you rocked your hips back to meet his thrusts. Thranduil reached around your shoulder and pulled you up, your back to his chest as he thrust up into you. His other hand slid around to your clit, rubbing harsh little circles over you. You keened a high-pitched whine, clutching at his arms.

“Pl-please, my king, Thranduil,” you panted, feeling yourself rising higher and higher towards your release. “Please may I cum? Please?”

Thranduil pressed his lips to your throat, biting lightly despite the roughness of his hips surging into you from behind. “Cum for me, my love,” he whispered harshly, tapping your clit in quick little movements. “Cum, now!” With that last command, you crested over the edge, screaming out your release as your vision blurred at the edges. Thranduil’s movements became sloppy before he thrust hard into you one last time, shouting his release as he gripped your tightly to him. You moaned at the feeling of his cock spilling its seed deep inside you, and you sagged against your lover, panting from how hard your release hit you.

It was a moment before Thranduil released you, and you flopped forward onto your side, groaning in pleasant soreness. Thranduil chuckled at you before crawling up in front of you, wrapping his arms. He kissed your lips gently, before pulling back slightly, eyes searching yours in concern. “Are you alright?” he whispered gently. You smiled dopily and nodded your head. “Oh, more than, my love,” you whispered back, kissing the tip of his nose. “And you didn’t break me!”

Thranduil gave you a rare, genuine smile that he reserved only for you and his son Legolas, a smile that let you know just how much the elf truly loved you. He trailed kisses across your brow, your eyes, your cheeks, before he reached your lips. “Perhaps you really are not made of glass,” he said cheekily, laughing when you punched him in the chest lightly.

 

                                                                                                                                ***

 

Thranduil paced the hallways incessantly, brows drawn into a tight scowl as his son watched him with mild amusement. “You know, you are the one who got her in this predicament in the first place,” he pointed out, smirking when his father shot him a glare. Before he could open his mouth to reply, a high-pitched wail sounded through the door, and both stood instantly, hurrying to get there first.

If anyone were to ask, neither the king nor prince of Mirkwood would admit to trying to shove one another out of the way to reach you first. As it was, you glanced up in alarm when both burst through the doorway, a little disheveled. The healers bowed to the two royals as they entered, before they waved them closer.

Thranduil straightened his overcoat, and sedately walked to his wife. You stifled a laugh, noticing one of the maids hide her smile behind her hand. Thranduil sat on the edge of the bed slightly behind you and kissed your temple. You smiled up at him, before you lifted the blanket back to reveal your nursing infant. “Your son,” you whispered, kissing his lips. Thranduil gave you a loving smile, and gently stroked a finger down his new son’s face, tracing his tipped ear with reverence.

Once your son had been fed and winded, and Thranduil had the chance to hold his newborn, you turned to your stepson, your best friend, and smiled warmly at him. “Legolas,” you called. “Please, come meet your brother, Beleg.” Legolas smiled, and stepped forward, gently taking his brother and looking down at him with nothing but love.

You turned to Thranduil and gave him a warm smile full of love and mischief. “I told you,” you whispered. “I’m not made of glass.”


End file.
